


Joan's Back!

by Johncowdrey



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:22:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27506023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johncowdrey/pseuds/Johncowdrey
Summary: Follows on directly frrom Runaway part 6. Parallel/ alternative universe, set around Joan Thursday.Set between November '67 and January '68, this period was missing on TV. borrwed one iconic scene from series 5 which I havetweaked, apart from that no canon.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Joan Thursday
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	Joan's Back!

**Author's Note:**

> Re- introduced a character from my first fic " cafe au late." This work is not fluffy, but quite light hearted and cheerful

Joan’s Back! chapter 1  
Making Another New Start:  
Joan suddenly feels a light tap on her shoulder, and she smells a brief whiff   
of Chanel No 5, as a cultured feminine voice says   
“Excuse me Miss Thursday, but Miss Jackson is ready to see you now.”  
“Look Morse I have to go, all right, your flat at 7o’clock to night, no I won’t   
be late bye.”  
The interview goes very well, the only doubts Miss Jackson has about   
Joan’s candidacy is whether she is well enough to start work, after the   
traumatic events at the Wessex Bank, and her equally tragic “fall” at the   
Penolver Hotel.   
Miss Jackson has certainly done her homework thinks Joan, but no   
mention of the miscarriage, is she waiting for me to mention it? Or is she  
unaware of it? Any way it’s really none of her business so Joan decides to   
let sleeping dogs lie.  
“At the moment Miss Thursday the Randolph is unable to offer staff   
accommodation, because of fire damage, and the subsequent   
refurbishments will take a few months to complete, but your salary will be   
increased to £20 per week from £15 to take account of this, all meals will   
still be supplied by the Hotel as required, is all this agreeable to you, Miss   
Thursday, in that case we will see you next Monday......Welcome to the   
Randolph.”  
After shaking hands Joan leaves, wondering how she will afford a flat she   
likes, and in a nice area.  
“Joan! Why didn’t you let me know? “says an ecstatic Win Thursday,   
overjoyed that her prodigal daughter has returned home, albeit that her   
homecoming is probably only temporary.  
“Sit down, and I’ll put the kettle on.”  
Over tea (although she has been in regular contact with her Mum) Joan   
gives an expurgated account of her time in Newquay, not sure how much of   
it her Mum has actually believed, but Win is just so glad to have her home   
safe and sound after her fall, (another very expurgated account from her   
husband Fred) that she doesn’t really care.   
After telling Win the good news about her new job, Joan goes on to ask   
her Mum if she can have her old room back for a few days until she finds a   
flat in town. Joan also tells Win she has a date with Morse at 7p.m so she   
won’t be in for dinner, but sandwiches would be great later on.  
Win is puzzled by this because she thought her infatuation with Morse was   
over long ago, but who can tell with Joan,  
“A proper enigma that one, and no mistake,” thinks Win.  
Joan lugs her trusty suitcase and satchel bag upstairs to the room she   
knows better than the back of her hand, and Is both amused and touched   
that everything is just the way it was when she left, unannounced almost 6   
months ago.  
After unpacking Joan goes back downstairs to sort through the pile of   
correspondence her mum has presented her with.  
There is an awful lot of junk mail, but amongst all of the dross  
there are some letters of interest.  
Firstly, a letter from the Prosecutions Dept at New Scotland Yard  
giving details about the trial of the Matthews gang at the Old Bailey,  
” No news yet about her own case” she thinks.  
Secondly, a rather cringing letter from Ray, (which arrived yesterday)   
apologising for what had happened to her, and a cheque for £150.00 in   
compensation. He ended rather mysteriously by asking her to keep in   
touch, as he may have some news to her advantage in the future. Although   
Joan thought she could get some more money if she took him to Court, she   
really could not be bothered with all the hassle.  
The third letter was from the Wessex Bank, again apologising profusely for   
her ordeal, and enclosing a cheque for £1500.00 in full and final settlement.   
There were also some forms about her pension, and pro-forma she had   
to fill in and return.  
Joan was overjoyed at these “windfalls” (almost £25,000.00 in today’s   
money). She could really think about re-booting her life with this money,  
but first the question of her new flat, and some unfinished business with her   
past.

The Wessex Bank:  
Joan felt she had to make a start to conquer her demons, and the first one   
had to be the bank, where her and Morse almost died less than 6 months   
ago. As she approached the facade of the bank, along pavements she had   
often hurried along, because she was late getting back from lunch, she   
found her footsteps getting slower and slower, until she was outside her old   
employer, the Wessex Bank.  
The first surprise was a uniformed security guard with a radio, standing   
outside the portico of the bank. When she was inside, her brain expected to   
see Ronnie sitting at his desk, looking at his watch while tutting at her for   
being late yet again, and this was to be her final warning, he always said,   
which they both knew was a load of rubbish.  
Looking round there were very few faces she knew, they must all have   
moved on since the robbery, except her old partner in crime, and fellow   
cashier, Gillian, who was waving frantically for her to come over. While   
waiting in the queue to pay in her cheques she remembered Paul Marlock,   
and his constant barrage of flattery, and oily charm.  
” Why couldn’t I see through him?” She wonders for the hundredth time.  
“Joan you look marvellous, how are you?” gushed Gillian.  
“You look so brown where have been?”  
“It’s a very long story, Gill lets meet up for lunch, and I’ll tell you all about it.”  
After making arrangements with Gillian, Joan breathes a huge sigh of relief   
when she gets outside of the Bank, and she now feels ready to conquer   
demon no2.

The Starlight Bingo Hall:  
Joan notices immediately the huge sign saying,  
“UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT”.  
She asks a workman in overalls, and wearing a hard hat if she can have a   
look inside at the work that’s been done.  
“Ok Miss, but be quick before the foreman gets back,” he says in an  
Irish brogue.  
Joan ducks under a tarpaulin, and is amazed to see the whole of the   
interior has been gutted, and the old building is getting ready to take on the   
next phase of its life,  
“A bit like me really”, Joan thinks philosophically as she turns to leave.   
When she gets home, Joan has a look through the Oxford Mail, makes a   
phone call, and has a sandwich before setting off to see Morse.

Morse’s Flat:  
This was the first time Joan had visited Morse’s flat, and from the outside,   
Joan was not overly impressed “surely a highly decorated Detective Police   
Sergeant could do better than this dingy basement, shabby was the word”   
she thought.  
While she waited for him to answer the door an idea struck her which could   
do them both a big favour.  
She can hear Morse’s footsteps hurrying to open the front door  
“Joan how wonderful to see you again, you look great, but  
are you ok, I mean really ok?”  
“You know when something bad happens, you just have to look it in the eye   
Morse,” Joan says averting her gaze from him.  
“Well look can I get you something, come in and sit down that’s the most   
comfortable chair” he says pointing to a sad looking lumpy old armchair,   
squatting by a 2-bar electric fire, obviously struggling against the chill   
November air.  
Joan has a look round, while Morse makes coffee in the miniscule galley   
kitchen, she is amazed that the outside of the flat is actually better than the   
inside, it makes matters worse that Morse has gone to a lot of trouble to   
tidy up, to present it in its best light, (presumably for her benefit).  
Morse eventually brings in coffee and biscuits, and he asks if she would   
like some music, to which Joan answers no, as she needs to discuss a   
serious matter.  
“How do you feel about sharing a flat with me, Morse?” Joan says without   
any preamble.  
“Why on earth would you want to share a flat with me? Look at the state of   
this place, and beside it’s far too small for the two of us.”  
“Not here you idiot,” Joan says laughing, she opens a folded copy of the   
Oxford Mail, and points to an advertisement she has circled, and says   
excitedly,  
“This would be perfect for us, Morse.”  
The property in question is a 3-bedroom 3 storey maisonette with a large   
roof terrace leading off from the sitting room in a really nice part of town.  
(Joan is obviously in love with it.)  
“Yes, it is lovely Joan, but why me?”  
“Three reasons Morse; One, I trust you more than anyone else. Two, I like   
you very much. Three, I feel safe with you, which after the last 5 months   
is important to me, and anyway Morse if I had accepted your proposal, we   
would be sharing a lot more than a flat.”  
Joan says with a wicked grin.  
Morse feels quite touched by Joan’s kind words, and also embarrassed at   
being reminded of his inept marriage proposal.  
“Well since you put it like that, you’re on, let’s do it”  
They shake on the deal, and excitedly make plans to visit the Estate Agent   
(Realtor) tomorrow morning. Joan had of course already made an   
appointment to view the property before involving Morse in the enterprise.

The New Apartment:  
The two friends meet at the Estate Agent’s, and the somewhat naive young   
negotiator immediately assumes they are a couple, probably with young   
children, hence the 3 bedrooms. Joan goes along with it until he asks how   
long have they been married, and she replies with a saucy wink,  
“Oh, we’re not married; I don’t think my boyfriend would approve.”  
Morse has to turn away and walk onto the balcony, before he can stop   
laughing.  
After paying the deposit they are given a 6-month lease, and the   
maisonette is theirs.  
The property is conveniently rented out as furnished, but for the few pieces   
they need, they buy second-hand, from an emporium recommended by   
Shirley Trulove.  
“Have we got a tenant for the third bedroom yet Joan?”  
“Don’t worry; someone is moving in on New Year’s Eve, that’s an idea   
Morse how about a New Years Eve party?”

Surprise Guests:  
Although Morse had filled in a change of address form for the station   
administrator, he completely forgot about letting Fred Thursday know   
personally, about his new abode. Joan and Morse had both had very late   
nights, Joan at her new boyfriend’s flat, and Morse at a late night showing   
of an Ingmar Bergman film.  
It was a nice Sunday morning, and so Fred and Win decided to pay Joan a   
surprise visit, and see their daughter’s much talked about new apartment   
for themselves. Joan welcomed them in, wearing a short baby doll nightie   
that raised Fred’s eyebrows, and when they walked into the sitting room  
they were treated to the sight of Morse walking out of the shower room with   
only a skimpy towel to keep him company.  
“Morning Sir”, Morse said cheerfully.  
“What the hell are you doing here?”  
Fred’s complexion was so red, his wife and daughter thought he was about   
to have an apoplectic fit, while Morse looked on in a bemused state of   
confusion at his boss’s volcanic outburst.  
It took some time to convince Fred’s suspicious mind that it was an entirely   
innocent situation, and he was able to laugh about it later at lunch, if not   
very heartily.  
Jonathon:  
As has been mentioned, Joan had a new boyfriend. He was a Doctor who   
worked at Guy’s hospital in East London, and was staying at the Randolph   
for a week or two while his flat in Oxford was being re-decorated. Joan   
being Joan fell for him hard and fast, and she really thought he was “The   
one”, and like all of Joan’s former amours there was always a big   
drawback. No, he was not married, a compulsive gambler, an inveterate   
womaniser, or a gangster. Jonathon was due to fly out to West Africa in a   
couple of months, and become involved in a very dirty and nasty war of   
Independence. Trouble was Jonathon hadn’t a clue how to tell Joan he   
would be leaving soon.

News from Newquay:  
In early December Joan got a surprise Christmas card from Ray and   
Jenny, and amazingly they were an item now,  
“Who would have thought it? That Jenny is a sly one.”  
More surprisingly Ray had sold the Penolver to the Hotel chain that owned   
the Randolph, and as part of the deal he was a now a Director- elect of the   
Randolph, due to take his seat on the Board on 1/1/68.  
“Does no harm to have friends in high places” muses Joan

New Years Eve: 1967  
Joan’s life was going through a purple patch at this time, she loved her job,   
had a gorgeous boyfriend that even her very picky dad liked. Her flatmate   
Morse was great, and she had money in the bank, as the old song went,  
“Who could ask for anything more?”  
Her one cause for regret was that Morse didn’t have a girlfriend, and so   
Joan decided to make it her business to interfere in poor old Morse’s non-  
existent love life. Before the party got properly started, she enticed him out  
on the balcony on some pretext or other in order to match-make him with   
her friend Claudine, who apparently was French, a photographer, and very   
attractive. Morse decided this was an ideal opportunity to pretend to be   
offended, and storm off, and so miss as much of the party (which he had   
been dreading) as was possible, it worked like a charm.  
Joan however was bereft at upsetting her best friend so much, that she   
spent most of her time looking out of the window to see if she could see   
him. She even insisted that Jonathon go out to search the local pubs for   
him, to apologise, and bring him back.  
An hour before Auld Lang’s Sine, while Joan and Jonathon were enjoying a   
smoochy slow dance to a “Whiter Shade of Pale” by Procol Harem, Morse   
sneaked into his bedroom with a blonde stunner he had met outside a   
telephone box in St. Giles Square.

New Years Day:  
Joan had left Jonathon in bed to go and make a cup of tea for Morse, as an   
apology for embarrassing him the night before. Knocking gently on his   
door, and then pushing it open, the first thing to catch her eye was a pretty   
blonde girl fastening her bra, the second, a red-faced Morse frantically  
struggling to pull up his Y-Fronts.  
“Well Morse, it’s a bit late for introductions, but this is my cousin Carol our   
new flat mate.” Joan has a huge smirk on her face as she has at last   
caught Morse with his pants down!  
To be continued:

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, part 2 to follow


End file.
